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by yours_eternally



Series: Feb-u-whump 2021 [1]
Category: Slipknot (Band)
Genre: Cigarettes, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, Fake Science, M/M, Mind Control, Oral Sex, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:02:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29129970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yours_eternally/pseuds/yours_eternally
Summary: ‘Yeah, you get it?’ Shawn says, chuckling darkly, ‘you just need to do as you’re told.’‘Bullshit,’ Corey says. He kind of wants to laugh, but his skin is starting to creep.‘Nah, it’s not bullshit,’ Shawn says.Shawn calls Corey in to try out a technological advance that's been fitted to his mask. Corey's not convinced but Shawn is willing to persuade him.
Relationships: Shawn Crahan/Corey Taylor
Series: Feb-u-whump 2021 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137497
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20
Collections: febuwhump 2021, yours_eternally's Febuwhump 2021 Collection





	0

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt is Mind Control 🤯

Corey flips the mask over to examine the inside. It doesn’t look noticeably different; other than the fine set of spikes that will rest against his temples when he puts it on. But he can’t really see those, just feel them with the pad of his thumb when he brushes it across one of the pair of small disks. It’s meant to be some sort of focus aid — a low electric current Shawn had said — to help him keep his shit together on stage. Corey’s somewhat skeptical. 

‘Fuck, man,’ he mutters, pulling his thumb back sharply to suck, tasting the salt and copper of his blood. 

Shawn grunts, shifting where he’s sat on the couch opposite. They’re alone in one of the upstairs offices at the label. It smells of dust with that kind of vomit top note that comes from overused vacuums. It makes Corey’s stomach clench unpleasantly but that’s probably more to do with the hangover. 

They’d been back from tour less than a week and trying to settle into “normal” things. But having a “normal” life is making Corey’s skin itch. So he drinks. And he tries to sleep. 

‘Try it on,’ Shawn says. He takes a drag from the cigarette in his hand. 

‘Where’s yours?’ Corey asks, glancing at Shawn. He’d been relieved to get the call. Shawn’s usual, no hellos or small talk, just a place and a time. Corey’s excitement had been somewhat damped to arrive at the label and assumed it would be another stupid fucking meeting about the album. But he’d been led up to a room he’s in now, to find only Shawn with the mask hanging from his hands and an unreadable expression on his face. 

‘They only made one,’ Shawn says, with a shrug, ‘—a prototype.’ 

‘Why mine?’ Corey says, frowning down at the two empty eyeholes.

‘You’re the frontman,’ Shawn says, stubbing his cigarette in the ashtray on the table. He scratches at his stubble as he smirks. ‘C’mon. I wanna see it.’ 

Corey snorts, and pulls the mask over his head, feeling the rubbery material stretch. Shawn lights another cigarette watching while Corey tugs the mask into place. Corey feels a slight sting at each template, then a spike of pain behind his eyes. It’s so sharp and so breath-taking it nearly knocks Corey’s knees out from under him. 

‘Shit, _fuck_ ,’ he grunts, gritting his teeth. He reaches up to immediately pull the mask off. Even though the pain had subsided almost as soon as it had started, he doesn't want that shit to happen again. 

‘Leave it,’ Shawn says, taking a long drag on his cigarette. Corey looks at him, hands frozen half-way up to his head. Then he drops them, unable to make himself perform the action. 

‘—the fuck,’ he says, struggling to lift his arms again. But they won’t move, hanging heavy and useless at his sides. His heart starts to throb in his chest, acid burning at the back of his throat as he panics. 

‘Calm down,’ Shawn says, shifting again. 

‘ _Calm_ — what the fuck?’ Corey says, fear sending his temper spiraling. ‘Why can’t I move my fucking arms, man?’ 

‘Stop trying to take the mask off,’ Shawn says simply. Corey opens his mouth to speak again but then takes a breath. He trusts Shawn. He trusts Shawn with his fucking life. So, he let’s go. Stops fighting. Almost immediately he can feel the change. He lifts his hand up to his face carefully. 

‘Fuck,’ he says, huffing out a breath relieved. Shawn huffs out a laugh as well. 

‘Yeah, you get it?’ Shawn says, chuckling darkly, ‘you just need to do as you’re told.’

‘Bullshit,’ Corey says. He kind of wants to laugh, but his skin is starting to creep.

‘Nah, it’s not bullshit,’ Shawn says. He leans back a little on the couch, stretching his back and letting his thumb hook into his belt. He takes another drag from his cigarette exhaling smoke while Corey watches him nonplussed. 

‘Want me to show you?’ Shawn asks, watching him. His eyes fixed on Corey’s where he’s peering at him through the eye-holes in the mask. 

‘Yeah, _sure_ ,’ Corey says, ‘fucking show me, man.’ He grins, spreading his arms. He’s still practically tweaking from the adrenaline but he doesn’t give a fuck. 

‘Okay,’ Shawn says, shrugging and sitting up. ‘Come over here and give your arm.’ For a moment Corey hesitates but it’s a pretty innocuous instruction so he rolls with it. He stumps over to Shawn and sticks out his arm. Shawn takes a hold of it, warm, rough palm against Corey’s skin. 

‘Now, don’t move,’ Shawn says. Corey shrugs. Shawn keeps hold of him, taking another drag of his cigarette, then he exhales and begins to lower the cigarette towards Corey’s forearm. 

‘Shit,’ Corey grunts, ‘hey man, not fucking funny, okay?’ But Shawn doesn’t stop and the glowing end of his cigarette is getting closer and closer. 

‘Fuck,’ Corey says, wanting to pull his arm back but he _can’t_. In fact, he can’t move at all. It’s like his limbs have set solid, even as he feels the heat from the butt. 

‘Pretty neat, huh?’ Shawn says, stopping at the last minute. Corey huffs a heavy breath with relief but he still can’t move. ‘Now, you get on your knees— right here.’ Shawn points to the floor between his sneakers. ‘—now.’ 

Again Corey is almost winded by pain. He doesn’t remember choosing to kneel but he somehow ends up there. He’s panting, disorientated and Shawn’s hand is wrapped around the sparse dreads of his mask. 

‘Open your mouth,’ Shawn says, keeping a hold of Corey’s head with one hand as the other goes to his jeans. Corey feels his mouth drop open, filling with saliva as he watches Shawn pop the button of his fly and spread his zip. _Fuck_. The unknowing obedience has got his body humming. Tingling heat is sprawling down his thighs as the same unseen force locks his jaw in place. Corey gives a gargled sort of groan. 

‘Yeah?’ Shawn says, leaning forwards to slide two thick fingers into Corey’s open mouth. Corey can feel saliva on his bottom lip and dripping down inside the mask to his chin. Corey tries to swallow, throat working as Shawn pushes his fingers deeper. His cock starts to pulse. 

‘Stay just like that,’ Shawn says quietly, ‘and I’m gonna fuck your mouth.’ Corey feels his stomach twist up tight with heat at the thought of Shawn using his mouth. He can’t exactly say oh god _yes_. So he makes a sort of moan low in his chest as Shawn shifts forward and gets his dick out of his jeans. 

Corey’s still fixed in place as Shawn slides his dick into his mouth. Corey groans again, feeling Shawn’s cock stroking hot and smooth over his tongue. Corey exhales as he feels Shawn’s hand tighten on his head. Corey grunts feeling Shawn push deeper into his mouth. His eyes are starting to water as he feels Shawn’s dick at the back of his throat. 

Corey feels lightheaded, it feels like all the blood in his body is pounding through his cock. He groans again as Shawn fucks into his mouth, his hot hand tight on the back of his neck. Corey’s jaw is starting to ache. His shoulders and arms are starting to ache where they’re still held rigid by the invisible restraint. Corey’s skin is burning, electrified, and it feels like he can barely suck in enough oxygen to keep from blacking out. 

‘ _Fuck_ —’ Shawn grits out and Corey feels him going still before shuddering hard. Corey moans, feeling his come filling his mouth. He tries to swallow, trying to flex his jaw but he can’t. So when Shawn pulls out, his come drips from Corey’s lower lip onto his chest and jeans. 

For a moment Shawn takes him in, hand under his chin. Then Corey feels his fingers around the edge of the mask, easing and pulling away from Corey’s head. As soon as the mask comes loose Corey feels like he’s surfaced from a deep dive, all of his muscles soften at once. He coughs once and smudges a hand across his mouth, wiping it down his jeans. 

‘Fuck,’ Corey says, panting. He lifts a hand to his temple, feeling a slight sting as he touches the contact point of the mask. 

‘You okay?’ Shawn asks. He’s fixed his clothes and is now watching Corey with a quiet intensity that raises all the fine hairs on his skin. Corey nods, though he’s still reeling. Shawn leans forward to pat Corey’s shoulder once before standing. Corey realises he’s still on his knees in front of him. 

‘You did good,’ Shawn says, going over to lay the mask on the desk, ‘—that’s gonna work just fine.’ 

**Author's Note:**

> Yay! 🎉 So! I'll be posting a prompt a day throughout Feb (full prompt list is [here](https://febuwhump.tumblr.com/post/638041380836540416/febuwhump-2021-prompts-the-prompt-list-is-out)) Pairings are varied (as you can see it's not all going to be Joey, I swear 🤞🏻) as is the level of "whumpiness" ..because some of the prompts just turned out super cute instead 😅
> 
> [yours-eternally-ao3](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/yours-eternally-ao3) on tumblr


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